Tea time with the void --- An Installation view of the 2020 paintings from the ongoing series Have You Seen The Horsemen Yet? dealing with the starkness of rationalizing an internal apocalypse or a mental breakdown.
Have You Seen The Horsemen Yet?, oil and rhinestone on canvas, 15” x 45”, 2020
Thinking of those in Pompeii Stuck in The Bath—La Realisation Du Monde, watercolor on paper, 22” x 30”, 2020
The Burning Bush Was Also A Trash Fire, oil and glitter on canvas, 36” x 54”, 2020
What Is Seen Cannot Be Heard—Let’s Burn Down My White Picket Fence watercolor and leaf on paper, 22” x 30”, 2020
At What Point Does This Become a Nightmare? — Marriage of Sunset and Shadow, watercolor on paper, 22” x 30," 2020
Have You Thought About Your [Existential Crisis] Today? -- The Breaking of the Seventh Seal, oil on canvas, 62” x 44," 2020
A Paradise I Wouldn’t Wish on Anyone, Watercolor and leaf on Paper, 22” x 30”, 2021
As I Wept Tears of Both Sadness and Joy I Saw Flames of Silver Glittering Before Me, Water media and leaf on paper, 22”x 30," 2021
As We Drank We Entered A World Without End, Oil and leaf on Canvas, 62” x 44," 2021
Here Are The Angels and Here’s What They Have to Say...You Break it You Buy It, Oil, Rhinestone, and Glitter on Canvas, Center: 36" x 54" Sides:15" x 44," 2021
The Cocktail Hour of the Apocalypse: A sister installation to Teatime with the void featuring the 2021 paintings envisioning the collective experience of the apocalypse through a party taking place on the last night on earth.
When thinking about the apocalypse, flames, war, plague, other destructive forces come to mind. Literary and film depictions show a world in a chaos of sharply contrasted duality of good and evil, life and death. However, when digging deeper into the subject, the very word apocalypse seems to have a different meaning entirely to the doom we compare it with. It comes from the greek apokalypsis, meaning an “unveiling” or “revelation.” With this, the idea of the apocalypse became synonymous with the end of suffering. In Ancient Greece, the belief in the world’s unveiling was rooted in the word for hope, elpis—anticipation or expectation of a good, safe future, but also fear of the unknown.
In this work I address my own acceptance of terror. Through framing devices within the paintings and externally as installations, I present moments where the spiritual and the material meet or overlap, ready to be revealed. In a time period which feels like a prolonged apocalypse, I draw upon the many mythologies which treat the end of the world as a birth of a new one.
